


Silent Frost

by WildBurr



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen, Isolation, M/M, Pre-Jackrabbit, Silence, possible trigger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 01:02:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5688553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildBurr/pseuds/WildBurr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Any sane human would go mad without interaction for any length of time.</p><p>Jack has been alone longer than anyone has a right to be.</p><p>An AU where Jack, after years of being ignored, isn't the soft cuddly happy fun sprite we all know. And no words have passed through those lips since a certain Easter long ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Frost

**Author's Note:**

> I live! Yes, finally have a way to write again, my phone just wasn't cutting it.
> 
> Experimented with a new style of writing, please give me some honest feedback at how you think it flowed.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> Edit - okay, the bold and italics didn't copy through properly, so I guess I have to work on that.

Easter Sunday - 1868

He hated other Winter spirits. With a passion.

His sturdy old crook swung in an arc, the knotted curve slamming into the chin of an Ijiraq that wandered far too close to civilization for his liking, knocking the moose like creature to the icy ground with a broken jaw. Twisting his body to avoid an opportunistic blow, he twirled his crook until the straight tip was pointed at the chest of a pouncing Yuki-Onna that was probably looking for less knowledgeable prey in America, skewering the woman-like spirit through the heart and freezing the corpse solid, causing it to crumble as he yanked his weapon free.

He righted the stick in his hands with a glare in his eye, staring at the assorted minor spirits and sprites causing the blizzard swirling above their heads. Their eyes flickered from the now slushy corpses of the two most powerful creatures in their little rag tag gathering and wisely scattered, fleeing back to the mountaintops and caves where they should be waiting for the cold to return.

Releasing a breath he didn't realise he was holding, the young Jack Frost ran a hand through his silvery, glittering hair before clutching his staff with both hands, leaning against it as he stared into the heart of the storm. Angry, bone-biting hailstones and slivers of ice masquerading as snow filled the air as he clicked his tongue in annoyance, trying to map out which spirit tied up which cloud, mumbling as he gestured with his crook. Eventually, he gave a slight smirk and motioned to his Wind, rising up.

"Come on big guy, easy... You know you don't belong here..."

Carefully he coaxed out the snow cloud at the heart of the blizzard, clucking his tongue and whistling to direct Wind, separating the snared bundles of fluffy cloud and directing them back where they came from. Hooking the large Himalayan cloud, he gripped tightly as it struggled, drawing it close.

"That's it... Easy boy... There we go..."

Stroking down the "back" of the weather system, he gave a sharp whistle to a nearby wind, directing it to carry the captured beast home. Without its chilling influence, the weather should return to normal soon.

The elemental kicked at the now mostly melted corpse of the moose as he landed, rubbing his face as he sighed. What was it about Winter spirits and their obsession with death? Or did he just have the worst luck to run into the horrors of the bunch? None of them ever seemed interested in talking much... In fact they usually attacked him on sight. Was that a good sign? On the one hand, he obviously wasn't associated with the freaks who saw humans as entertainment at best and prey at worst. On the other...

He shook his head firmly in an attempt to dislodge the thoughts swirling in his brain, like the storm that was now breaking above him. But his traitorous brain continued regardless.

On the other hand, maybe you're the outcast.

Grimacing, he started to sweep at the ice and hail in the area, breaking it up the best he could. Slowly, piles of stones turned to drifts of soft, fluffy snow, the ice to the glittering of frost underfoot, adding a crunch to the soft grass shoots. It would be easier if he could just melt it directly, but only a Spring or Summer spirit had that luxury.

His hands went through the motions as he became lost in his thoughts. Was it because he looked almost human? Even the "human" winter spirits had a touch of something uncomfortably uncanny about them, from shards of glacial ice as teeth to coal black pits for eyes. They never seemed to talk either, or if they did it was somehow circumnavigating his hearing. Any time he tried, he usually got something sharp thrown or jabbed at him for his troubles.

With a dull thud he tapped the end of his crook onto the ground, critically examining his work. No dangerously hidden patches of ice, no icicles ready to pop loose and skewer anyone below and no snow-heavy clouds within a few miles...

Panting softly at the exertion, he let a small chuckle escape at the thought of a hard job done well. Ha, let's see someone try to ruin spring now...

"What the bloody hell do ye think yer playing at, ye frozen ratbag?!"

He spun round on the breeze, gasping despite himself. Words! Real speech he could understand and talk in and finally someone who can answer his questions and-

Was that a rabbit?

Was that an egg flying towards his face?

"It's Springtime ye frozen git! Get that snow outta here, or MiM help me I'll shove it back up yer bloody arse myself!"

After a few colourful explosions, Jack decided he didn't like either.

At least the yelling was cathartic.

But maybe... Maybe if the Easter Bunny was real...

Ignoring the scorch marks on his arm and cloak, he took off.

\------------------------

Surely Santa would be the kind to help someone?

The furry beasts (Yetis as he later found out) that angrily defended the workshop convinced him otherwise. He lost his cloak that day, shredded as he struggled against a strong grip.

Deep in his office, North shivered slightly as a strong source of Wonder dwindled and faded. And returned to his work, oblivious to the child sweeping away from the pole.

 

\----------------------

 

The glowing trails of sand led him to his second encounter with the Guardians, laughing as he spiralled higher and higher into the air, trying to call out to the short Spirit. He continued his work without sparing the ice white child a second glance until it sank back down below the cloud cover.

The dosing Star cracked open bleary eyes, stretching as he looked around, feeling an odd stiffness in his sand as someone's dreams shattered like spring thaw. And then carried on with his nap, directing his sands in his narcoleptic dreams.

 

\--------------------------

 

The fairies. There were so many, flitting from home to home, room to room, every night of the year. Surely one, just one single little pixie would take the time to talk to him, to acknowledge him, even if it was only a wave? Instead they scattered when he got close, twittering to themselves as he tried to call out, reaching for someone, anyone...

He only got a peck to his fingers for his troubles before he snapped, yelling at the Wind to carry him, scattering the fluttering bird like spirits.

Deep in her castle, Tooth rubbed at her fingers, briefly imaging a winter's chill before diving back into directing her little gatherers, barely registering when an angry, hurt youth resolved to forget anything to do with happy tales.

 

\---------------------------

 

He urged the Wind on faster, crook creaking in his grip, jaw clenched tight to hold back the tears that threatened to well up behind his eyes. If that was how Spirits interacted with each other, maybe he was better off alone.

As he sank into a glacier near the pole to sooth his burns he made himself a promise. No more trying to talk. Humans. Spirits. Giant Fucking Rabbits. All it brought was pain.

Deep in the Warren a certain Pooka raised his head, subconsciously burrowing into his den a little bit deeper against the chill. Following the sudden bloom of hopelessness back to its frozen owner, he grimaced and rolled over, attempting to put him out of his mind.

He didn't sleep that night.

 

March 3 days before Easter - 2012

 

"Blizzard of '68 right? Easter Sunday I believe"

Jack scowled as he eyed the familiar rabbit, one hand reaching up to brush over a long scarred over burn, his other hand gripping his crook tighter. Lips tight and thin, he stepped back, once, twice, keeping his eyes on the Spring spirit and his damned eggs. Ignoring the twirling boomerang, he subtly gestured for the Wind at his back, ready to-

Ready to yelp as thick, heavy, furred hands grabbed onto him, quickly being stuffed into a thick canvas sack, stomach splurging as he felt like being stretched and...

He decided there and then, teleportation, or whatever they used to lead from place to place, was something to be avoided at all costs.

He clenched his jaw tight enough to almost crack a tooth, something the hummingbird like woman flustered about as the explained what they wanted from him.

Now? Now they were trying to talk to him? Where were they for the last three hundred years? He bit back the angry retort as he circled the four, grimacing at the gaudy, tinkling elf, snapping it into place, watching it fall mid-step.

If he were human, his knuckles would be turning white from the death grip he kept on his staff, breathing in deeply, holding it, releasing it. Of course they would only want him for something they wanted. There was no way it was because they wanted him.

Poor little Jack Frost.

He considered just leaving, holding out one of the rude hand gestures he had watched the humans use, until Pitch showed up.

And while he still had no love for the Guardians, the kids were innocent in this. Not their fault they couldn't see him.

So he'd stick around. For now.

 

March 2 days after Easter - 2012

 

If he was being honest with himself, it didn't feel as good as he had hoped when he saw the rabbit taken down a peg. He recognised that look. Knew what he felt when that kid walked through him, unseeing.

Then the bastard had to go and accuse him of ruining Easter! Again! Did he really think he was that petty? That he was jeopardise the kids, just for a little payback?

He refused the oath, naturally, instead heading back to his glacier where he recovered all those years ago, glaring whenever he caught sight of the moon. So, he could send a message to any guardian whenever he wanted, but didn't think to ask them to keep an eye on his "new born"? Talk about parental abandonment.

In his hoody lay the chilly cylinder that promised him answers about the past. Was he always meant to become Jack Frost? Was it a reward for saving his sister, or punishment for essentially committing suicide? He never got how religion tended to ignore their own rules if it suited, why wouldn't the moon be the same?

But as he sat cross legged in the biting wind he gave a cry of frustration. Nothing he did seemed to unlock the box and the memories he craved inside.

Meaning he'd have to go to Tooth.

He'd have to play nice.

He'd have to... talk.

Pale fingers stroked his throat cautiously. It had been a long time... Over 100 years of silence, save the occasional whistle and cry as he directed his winds. If he was honest, he wasn't sure if he remembered how to hold a civil conversation anymore. Hell, he wasn't sure if he could even pronounce proper words anymore.

He stood, ruffling his hair in agitation, thinking it over before groaning, thumping his crook into the ice. He'd have to swallow what little pride he had left and head for the pole where the four were recuperating.

Meaning he'd have to deal with the insufferable rabbit...

With a sigh he rose to his feet, stuffing his memories back into his pocket as he called the Wind, already gusting North.

\----------------

Aster grimaced as Tooth explained the little snow devil's lapse in memory, watching the sprite tap his fingers against his staff impatiently. Little bugger didn't even really listen to her as she explained that, while one or two memories at a time could be directed to the recipient, what Jack was asking for... A whole lifetime... Well, everyone in range would be seeing them along with him.

The frozen sprite thought about it for a few seconds and shrugged, uncaring. Right... Not like he was here to be friendly after all...  
He gripped the quilt North lent him tighter around himself as his mood darkened. Just remember that Blizzard. Bloody selfish, inconsiderate show pony....  
Then Tooth opened the box, the light shining out and...

A mother stomach swollen "how long?" a smile "not long" joy excitement-

Later a father wood in hand knife in other carving shaping for him him alone no sharing new responsibility pride and-

Cold hills clutching cloak mother made calling whistling dogs herding sheep their fleece look just like clouds-

Hungry long hard winter sister crying barely mouthful each sneaks his portion onto her plate anything to stop the crying his little sister must protect-

First sign of thaw Easter next Sunday first time they smiled in months skates hanging from crook and-

No no no can't let her fall won't let her fall make her laugh playing hopping, the crook sweeping her away and she's safe and-

Cold so cold dark I'm scared sister safe kick drag fist against the ice where's the hole chest hurts so cold so cold so cold...

\-----------------

Aster reeled back from the memories, clutching at his own chest, sucking in air so hard it almost hurt.  
He... Jack, drowned? He died and... but how did...

But the light show wasn't over yet. As he brought his breathing back under control the translucent tendrils of light coiled around them once more and without warning...

\----------------

Jack Frost only words he ever said did he even say them was he really there all in his head the stick a crook important can't loose it frost on the ice sweeping gliding a village did he live here and-

They don't see me they don't hear me hello? hello? please please someone anyone I'm so scared-

Things like him but not like him they hurt they wither crops people hungry stop it! swinging crook the thing flees the children eat a little more next week-

More things stronger meaner Hunter never came back mother lost in the woods he tries tries so hard too strong but saved the woodsman more fires they hurt but the people smile more than in days and-

Thaw green shoots chases the beasts who stamp and shred warmer feel tired want to sleep but more monsters have to stay awake stay until they sleep the Sun itches his skin-

Blizzard. Easter. Another who sees him who talks. Excitement. Relief. Joy, utter Joy. Confusion. Pain. Burns more than Sun than fire run why didn't he listen-

Santa Sandman Tooth Fairies all ignore lost cape its important arm burns sleep try to get it back beasts keep finding him keep throwing him away-

Find cloak torn ruined why is it so important feels like part of him died

Again

Silence years pass monsters every year he fights but so many where guardians children grow die grow die no one sees no one speaks alone

They want him why only to be used fight their fight children protect children moon knew why leave me like this why alone and he hates and it freezes and he must calm its that rabbit he hates hates hates hates why feel sorry blames me again and hates stronger...

Why did he help the rabbit he hates him doesn't care never will and

\------------

Aster yanks himself free of the memories Jack was reliving, feeling sick to his stomach as he rubs at his face. Every time he blinked he could see himself. He could feel the burn that his Spring brought to the spirit as a phantom pain on his arm and shivered slightly as his own memories coiled the ones now implanted in his head. Why didn't he notice?

Looking out across the room he saw he wasn't the only ones wrestling with his guilt. He even saw Phil blinking away tear as his fists clenched, over and over, as though grabbing at something. North's usual glow faded and he looked paler than he had in several centuries. Golden sand shifted from shape to shape as Sandy tried to process what he had seen, trying to remember the day a young spirit came to him. Tooth hung her head low, Baby Tooth and other fairies looking ashamed, looking everywhere bar the blue and while figure on the floor.

The Pooka licked dry lips as he stood, reaching out cautiously.  
"Frostbi-... Jack? Jack, mate, if I had known..."  
He swallowed as Frost stood, inhaling sneakily, glancing at the Spring spirit.  
"Jack... I'm sorry mate... honestly, I can't.... I shouldn't have..."

He held out his hand to help the boy up, trying to ignore the kick to his gut as it was ignored, but thankful it wasn't slapped aside or frozen. MiM knew he deserved it for being such a stupid wanker, and in the back of his mind his thoughts were racing as he tried to find a way to at least apologise properly.

How many times had he lashed out at the lad, thinking the worst of him? Could he even begin to show his regrets? Did he even deserve to try to earn his forgiveness?

He watched as Jack walked to the window in a daze, North trying to convince him to rest before attempting to fly, but falling on deaf ears. Pausing only to glance at Tooth, he gave a small nod and barely a hint of a smile before he was outside, floating on the ever accompanying breeze...

 

Easter Sunday - 2014

 

Aster rubbed the back of his neck as the last of his eggs were found and gleefully paraded around by the lucky searchers, a small grin on his face. This year had been a good one, thankfully. After the whole Pitch fiasco and working double hard to reaffirm the public's belief in him last year, it would be nice to just crawl back into his Warren and sleep for the next fortnight.

A brief gust of chilly wind at his back made him sigh, using both paws to rub at his collarbone, grunting softly.  
"How were the buggers this year?"  
Jack fell, feather soft, onto the log he was sitting on, the barest hint of frost creeping over the bark. He gave a shrug, a non-committal grunt and wiggled his hand back and forth.  
So so.

"Maybe they finally learnt their lesson... Ye alright mate?"  
A brief smirk and a pat down of his arms.  
Still in one piece.

The bunny nodded, stretching out the kinks of his back after several days solid work, glancing at the sprite. It probably wouldn't be as comfortable as his glacier, but if he didn't ask...  
"Jus' about t' head home mate. Get some grub and curl up in mah nest fer a few days..."  
He glanced over, idly scratch a shoulder.  
"Yer welcome t' make yerself at home Snowflake. Doors always open fer ye... ye know?"

The Winter Spirit watched him carefully for a few moments before giving a short smirk, pulling his hood over his eyes. Tapping the end of his crook on the ground, a small cloud crept out around the curve, gently starting to rain.  
Sounds good but rain check?

Aster closed his eyes and nodded, folding his arms over his chest.  
"Yeah, no worries mate. Gives me time t' sort out a guest room for ye anyway"  
He wouldn't just walk into someone's home after they threw an explosive at him either. But at least the offer was there. Maybe one day he'd take him up on it.

He stepped away from the trunk, tapping the ground twice to open up a tunnel when a cool hand patted his shoulder where the worst crick was, soothing it.  
"See you... Cottentail"  
Aster twisted round, but the frosty teen was already long gone, following the Wind, hand rubbing the soothed spot. Slowly, he broke out into a grin, leaping into the Warren with more enthusiasm than he really should after a hard Easter.

After all, he had a guest room to start.


End file.
